Sunday, February 19, 2012

I Wish...

I wish I knew why Luke was running a fever today.  It's the first fever he's ever had.  In 13 and a half months.  Even through teething and H1N1 and double ear infections and sinus infections...not once has he had any fever.

So I'm perplexed and I wish I knew what was going on.  I came across a blog of a woman who lost her son a few weeks ago.  He was adopted from the Ukraine; nearly 9 months here in his forever home.  He had horrible flu-like symptoms one day and the next was dead.

It turns out it wasn't the flu, but a bike accident he'd had the day before.  He'd fallen, damaged his duodenum, and died.  It was such a benign fall, apparently, he'd never even told his mother.  No big deal.

I just think, "If Luke's never had a fever when I expected him to...what does it mean when he has one out of the blue.  For no reason?"  I've been very good about not expecting the worst, but I won't lie.  I do not like his body fighting something of which I have no knowledge.  It takes me back to a very helpless place where control is not even close to an option and ends with many people standing around a small white casket on a cold and icy day.

I know.  It's just a fever.  Not even a high highest, 100.2.  I don't have to take him for urine testing unless it's 101.  Motrin immediately brought relief and the poor sweet thing has been sleeping and really, for being sick, one might never know.  I know my mind is really getting out of control.

I wish it was as easy as people think it is just to turn it off.

I wish we had pictures from Matthew's funeral.  Really, I wish we had video.  We have a cd, somewhere, in the 8 million boxes that are either stored here in the garage in NC or storage in Maryland.  But I'd love to have video or pictures because so much of it is just so blurry.

Some things, like how everyone looked so pitifully at me, scream at me every time I think of that day.

Others, like who was there and what the table with his things looked like and what the church looked like are cloudy.  And get cloudier every day.

I wish, though I know it's such a benign question and truly well-intentioned when asked, people would not ask me, "What do you want?" when we discuss the fact that we do not know if both of these  embryos implanted and are viable pregnancies.

What do I want?  I don't want to have to grieve another baby.  Period.  Whether that means one, two, three or 10...I want to be able to carry and birth and raise and love until I die whatever I'm given.

And really, how harsh would I sound if I said, "Um, just one?"  Of course, one comes with less risk.  More odds of bringing home.  Less stress and chaos with another toddler and two crazy dogs and a house that's not really my house and a deployed husband.

But one also means that a little chance at life ended.  I know that the debate on where life begins is a never-ending one.  But for us, life began the second any of those little embryos' cells divided.  Nothing was making them do that.  No laboratory procedure was forcing the reproduction from two to 4 to 8 cells...and then beyond.  To us, life was in them.  And when I transferred both of those embryos several weeks ago, they were both living...dividing...growing.  So to say I'd prefer a single pregnancy for all reasons listed above makes me sound selfish, cruel, and really...I feel a bit murderous.

So again, I just wish that I'd not have to answer that, and am glad that people nod (sort of sheepishly as if they forgot what we've been through because it seems so far away now)  when I tear up and say, "I just want healthy. I want to bring this baby or babies home."  Once they hear me answer, they realize how frivolous a question it is.

I wish that it wasn't like that, though...that the frivolity and ignorant bliss that many women who undergo fertility treatments have  when they finally get pregnant and anticipate finding out how many 'took' was still a part of my world and that question wouldn't bother me so much.

Dr. P told me that he knew of a patient who underwent several years' worth (and thousands of dollars as well, as we certainly know!) of fertility treatments and finally got to a point where she had 6 embryos from an IVF cycle.  She transferred them all, and he said that was the first set of septuplets he'd ever scanned.  People thought she was crazy for transferring all 6 (I think it's medical malpractice, and wasn't done at this office, of course!), but he could understand after all she'd been through and all she'd spent, how she was willing to risk the chance of multiples in order to become a mother.

I replied, "I understand too.  But once you've become a mother who has to bury her child, you are a lot more cautious in the risk you are willing to take, and frankly, I'd not really be willing to risk the life of one of my children for another in any scenario."

Again, a knowing of those, "Oh, yeah...that's right...I guess I forgot to whom I was talking," and he said, "You are absolutely right."

I know.


  1. Praying the little sweetie has a restful nights sleep and that nasty fever breaks and goes away. Just this week I was reading the "manual" my pediatrician sent us home from the hopspital with and the title of one section is FEVER IS YOUR FRIEND. It goes on to say that fever is your childs way of fighting infection, etc...

    Well, it may very well be Dr. C's friend, but its sure not mine! LOL On a serious note, I totally understand why you are worried, but that little tiger of yours is a ferocious fighter and he is going to be just F-I-N-E! Sending you loads of love and prayers of comfort sweet friend.


  2. Fevers can be so stressful! I pray it goes away soon and that he begins to feel better and you begin to feel peace. <3 ya!!

  3. I understand completely.. and I am sending hugs to Luke. XO mamma///

  4. I'm a new reader, and was caught by your blog because I have also lost a child, my first daughter. I now have a healthy 2 year old son, but I know how quickly it can all change, and have moments of anxiety too. I'm praying for you and your new pregnancy.

  5. (((((((((((((hugs)))))))))))))))

  6. C has her first fever tonight. The first one I've ever noticed anyhow. She vomited earlier and I just want her to be ok. I want to not be worried. I want you not to be worried. I want your heart to be at peace, but I believe there is just a piece of that peace that will always be missing. I have to believe that God understands that and hurts with us. I'm praying that whomever is growing inside of you becomes a healthy baby or babies that are there to bury you when you are very very very old and gray and their children are there too. I'm praying for peace for your heart and soul as you venture through this pregnancy and take it one day at a time.

    Thank you as always for your transparency, while it is painful, it is honest and helps others feel ok about their own hurt!

    Lots of love to you friend!